Lets talk about my first truly awful job...it begins when I walked into and was hired at CHUCK E CHEESE. Now there are shitty jobs and there are fucking really shitty jobs, this was the later. I was 16 needed money, they were hiring and I WAS the mouse, don’t call it a rat, people in the profession know it’s a mouse so you just sound like an ignorant fuck when you say rat so back off. Anyway this mouse job was hilarious once you get past the fact that you will not make any money what-so-ever and you surrender to the notion that you will spend half the day in a smelly used by others sauna of a damn costume. When I wasn't being the mouse, I would do other things much more deserving of my time such as working the Prizes counter where you can cash in your hard earned tickets for absolutely worthless prizes. Alot of times, if I liked the parents, I would match the kids contribution of tickets 10-20 fold...it didn't feel right being the kiddy crack dealer so I felt that made things a bit better. I would waste hours "cleaning" the massive maze of plastic tubing that was a kids dream of a play ground. Or I would hide in the ball play pin just to freak out some unsuspecting 4 year old, long story short I was bored and poorly managed. I was also paid, no lie, 5.75. Yea that’s right I got a twenty-five cent raise the day I was hired because I volunteered to be the go to mouse guy, anyway after my first paycheck I certainly decided the real worth of this job wasn't going to be a monetary one. I tell you what though, it was a little like being a celebrity, or a pedophiles dream job, little kids instantly rush up and want to give you hugs. It was really odd when I first starting being the mouse and people would want to take pictures with me…I would smile...it took me a few outings to realize there was no need to smile. Let me state as a matter of fact that I did not enjoy the job after about 15 mins into the first day of training videos, it sucked. I once got flipped off by a 2 year old, no shit a 2 year old, his finger was half a centimeter high. There is nothing like this to make you question where you are heading in life then a day at work when a 2 year old flips you off, nothing. Its funny when the lazy ass parents have a birthday party for the 8 year old kid and they pick this place. Eight year olds are a pain, they know damn well that the easter bunny is fake, same with the tooth fairy, Santa might still be hanging in there since, well he is a god like figure that will withhold presents if you don't believe. Anyway, you bet your soul these same eight year olds know for a fact chucky isn't real, harassment begins. Spurred on by the phenomenon that is group think(the responsibility of an action is lessened once there are others around, thus the individual feels justified in otherwise unreasonable actions...see: the nazi movement) This harassment only gets worse when the huge gang finishes the pizza party, the now sugar induced, cake fueled, and soda crazed kids are in full on rage and destruction mode. This mode involves a game of trying to kick chucky in the balls, a game I was not a fan of from the beginning and very sick of in about 3 seconds flat. At first I tried to kinda push the problem kids aside and defuse the situation, no such luck. Eventually one of these little fuckers actually got a good kick in, I instinctively grabbed this kid and demonstrated to him how much I was sick of this game, the job, the suit, the smell, his face, and my (not disclosed in the job description) pain in the groin area. Tossing this kid into the nearest collection of chairs felt great, and looking at his face turn from anger to total amazement and disbelief in midair was truly satisfying. Even better was the look on the faces of the remaining gang, it was that jaws dropped, eyes wide open, the world isn't such a nice place, your actions do have consequences sort of realization for these guys...I've made a difference. A comment card came back later that day.."Chucky could be nicer"...mission accomplished.
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